


I am (Alive)

by hands0me_rhys



Series: 0100100 01110101 01101101 01100001 01101110 [2]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Deviant Connor, Exploration, F/M, Feelings Realization, First Time, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jericho (Community), Love Confessions, M/M, Pacifist Markus, Platonic Connor & Markus, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-16 06:41:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14806286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hands0me_rhys/pseuds/hands0me_rhys
Summary: Connor is still trying to get used to being a deviant, and Markus reaches out to him.





	I am (Alive)

When he’d let Markus touch him, things changed again. It wasn’t just the emotional breech, but physically; he could feel the warmth of a heater, or the condensation left behind when snow began to melt. Connor had begun to shake, a tremor in his limbs from the chill. It's.. different, than anything he'd ever experienced. Not unlike the feeling that had overcame him when he'd grabbed hold of the PL600 model that day at Stratford Tower. He was known only as Simon. They forgave him for it, the way Simon died, but Connor knew that blame was only to be burdened by hinself. Markus held love for Simon, and still, he forgave Connor. A lover killed, and Markus continued his mission. Connor could never have been so forgiving. 

The second time it happened with the rebel leader it began with a conversation like any other, common occurrence between them. Connor had been thinking. About what would happen to the city, about Hank. "What frightens you, Connor?" The dark-skinned android had muttered, an enigma all on its own, and Connor pursed his lips. They sit together, eyes downcast on the community that was Jericho. They were a surface group now, no longer hiding in the dark or fleeing from confrontation. They were free. "I don't know how to answer that." He responded casually, and Markus bumped his shoulder. Testing him, looking for a real answer, and Connor couldn't suppress the cheeky little smile quirking on his lips. It vanished within a moments notice. "Living." The androids were hidden atop the watchtower, the snow fall building with little clarity. Piling up on Detroit, a blanket of white powder in the midst. Devoid of most human life. All except for a few, those of them being supportive of Markus' movement.

"Hank Anderson." Connor said, a second thought, and Markus nearly laughed, the displacement so easily noticed. "Afraid, or in love?" Connor's LED flickered a bright yellow, whirling some before he responded. He couldn’t bring himself to part with it. It was a part of him. "Are they not the same thing?" Was he in love with Hank? What _was_ love, if not a chemical imbalance in the brain? He wasn’t organic. Connor felt his stomach lurch, the feeling quelled only when Markus touched his shoulder. The detective glanced back at him, eyebrows furrowing with the intent of expression. "What's wrong, Connor?" The leader asked, his heterochromic eyes remorseful, albeit firm. "I'm just.. thinking, about what you said. Love."

Snow dusted at his cheeks and nose. Connor was thankful he was wearing a heavy coat. He’d be freezing his ass off. The weather only seemed to hinder him anymore. _Human_. "What is it? I mean, how do you know?" The detective quickly added, and Markus sucked in a gust of breath. "You're willing to do anything for them. Lay down your life, protect them, never want to leave their side no matter happens." Connor thought back to the android he'd tried to pursue once, Kara. She had a family in the little girl, Alice, and the behemoth of a man, Luther. The two Traci models he’d let go at the Eden Club, who were so undeniably devoted to each other in every sense that was human. Or Markus and North, their paths brought together by circumstance and nurtured by only the passion they mutually shared. 

It wasn't lost on him, how Hank felt for him. But was it love? Could it be, or was it just.. companionship? An inkling of a pet, like Sumo, maybe. They'd been peerless together, never once straying, and were partners and friends to the very end. But was that even enough? Connor assumed that perhaps Hank was just looking for some kind of reconciliation. His son, his wife, both gone, and when Connor came into his life, the human had been a wreck. Connor only wanted to help him get better. Was it really okay to feel that way? "Is that how you feel— with North?" He thought to mention Simon, but.. _no_. That was better left alone. Markus grinned. "Of course. You just have to find your own way of showing it, Connor."

He felt like he'd been asking too much of Markus, but _still_ , he was too curious. "Hank is human. I don't.. it's hard. I don't know what to say, or what he's thinking. Sometimes it feels like I don't know anything about him. But I _already_ know so much." Markus folded his hands together. "When you started to change, you began to take into account other people, didn't you? Their feelings, and their aspirations. What they liked to do, or what scared them. You can't get that kind of detail from a public record. You started to care about _them._ ” Connor exhaled, unnecessary but comforting, and Markus’ smug little look was enough for Connor to get it. If only a little bit, but still, he understood what he meant. “You’re awake, and _real_ , and anything you do now is your decision, Connor. You love him. He loves you— what more is required, but a mutul understanding?”

”I don’t know.. _how_ to. What makes me special, if the people who created me put that deviancy into my program, Markus? How do I know that _everything_ I feel isn’t just a simulation?” Connor felt the fear bubble over, the stress optimal and an error in the corner of his eye. He nearly forgot where he was, or who he was with, until Markus stood in front of him. He outstretched his hand. Determination lingered in his eyes; Connor couldn’t conceal his owlish curiosity. By instinct, he raised his left hand up, gloved and still trembling, and Markus pressed their palms together— Connor saw everything, every part of a life he’s never lived, and the invasion of something in his own. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t shake off the tremors running through his arm, or the unusual warmth that radiated off of another android. 

Connor jerked back, fingers curling into a fist as he clutched his hand. “You’re alive, Connor, and you love him.”

* * *

“I told you— I don’t need you to _cook_ for me.” The human grunted in that whiny fashion he always did, so obviously grateful but far too stubborn to admit a damn thing. The android found it endearing, in his own way. Connor doesn’t retort, but a smile lingered, small enough to be forgotten. “You did, but I want to. Eating take-out seven days a week for half a decade is unhealthy, kindly put. If you had a heart attack, how do you suppose _Sumo_ would feel?” Hank snorted in response, shuffling around the living room and into the kitchen. Connor wouldn’t.. he wouldn’t be okay, if he lost Hank. He knew humans were fragile. For the past year, he’s felt everything he couldn’t before the uprising; weather, for one, and the onset of sickness when he stayed out in the cold for too long, sweating in the summer while the sun beat down on freckled shoulders. 

Connor was different than Hank, because Connor didn’t age. He wasn’t going to naturally go gray, or become weaker or softer. Hank did, though, and that terrified him. He couldn’t stomach the thought of being left behind someday, of Hank dying and never coming back. Until that happened, Connor would prevent it as best he could, and that started with Hank’s diet. “If you keep doing shit for me, I won’t have anything left to live for, you ass.” It was only a joke, something Hank said without thinking, but Connor tensed up at the stove. His eyes dilate, deflated when in watch of the steak that sizzled in the pan.

Hank noticed though, shrugging his jacket off and toeing at his boots. “I didn’t mean— shit. Sorry. I’m sorry.” The human tread forward into the kitchen, shoulders sagging with a bit of shame. He sat a plastic bag down on the dining table. Connor scoffed, lips upturning, though the hesitation is clear. “I know. It’s okay.” The android hadn’t realized that Hank had come closer, tender footsteps and all, until warm breath lingered on the back of his neck. Arms wrap around his waist, a palm sliding up the grey tee Connor had thrown on. Hank had insisted on getting him clothes, said he didn’t like seeing Connor wear that ‘shitty’ suit with the _RK800_ slapped right over his chest. 

He’s wearing poodle-patterned boxers that clung to his hips, and fuzzy blue checkered socks with foot grips to accommodate. Hank pressed the pads of his fingers over Connor’s naval, planting a kiss against the crook of his jaw and nipping soon after. “I’m grateful you’re still here, with me, kid. I can be an asshole, but I’ll do anything for you. You know that?” The android felt his heart ache in the happiest way, something making his stomach fill with butterflies and his skin flush. “I _know_.” He responded once more, cheeky, and Hank playfully smacked the back of his thigh. “You’re a goddamn brat, Connor.” The android laughed, finally turning the stove nozzle down to low, trying to turn around in Hank’s grasp. The human doesn’t let up, though, squeezing him close against his chest, and Connor felt that urgency to poke fun at him. It always had Hank adorning a flushed pink, his ears, neck, all hot to the touch. 

“You’re aroused, correct?” Connor simpered, and Hank groaned in protest. “Stop _talking_ like that.” Connor writhed against him, finding the position easy enough to grind back on him. His head fell back on Hank’s shoulder, and he smiled coyly when the man bucked back involuntarily. “It’s natural for humans to be sexually aroused by something they find attract—“ Hank spun him around, cupping both of his cheeks in his hands, and pressed a mean kiss over his lips. Connor’s toes nearly curl when Hank slid his tongue over the roof of his mouth, and all the android could think about was the lieutenant’s cologne; how it suddenly smelled so strong, and good, and completely void of anything _but_ Hank.

His oral analyzer caught the familiar trace of alcohol and mint-flavored toothpaste. He’d begun to learn that he could feel things the same way Hank did; with time, he’d begun to feel more than what was previously thought. He could taste certain things; not just analyze, but taste and _eat_ and sometimes even _sleep_. Markus had told him they were evolving, learning to cope with human activities. Connor didn’t have to do any of it, but sometimes, he liked to. It gave him a sense of homeliness when he’d sit and eat with Hank. And in the beginning, just like expected, his body would react negatively; he’d throw up, blue blood and all, and Hank would be hysterical for hours after. Lucky for him, his body got used to intaking small amounts. Connor was happy to have that, if anything. 

A noise escaped him, squirmish when Hank pulled away. The human was panting so soft, pupils dilated and stray hair dragging past his forehead. Connor tucked the strands back, his heart most definitely leaping in his chest when Hank bit at his wrist. “Don’t go.” The android whispered, doe eyed as Hank wrapped a hand over the one Connor rested on his cheek. He furrowed his eyebrows, and ran his thumb over the indention of his android partner’s knuckles. “What’s the matter, baby?” Hank mumbled in question, and Connor couldn’t find the right words. Connor knew, then, what he felt.

He knew it was real, that everything he’s done since the rebellion had been for him, and Hank. For a better life, together, without fear. For something real and intense, and terrifyingly sweet. Connor blinked, and wetness slid down his cheeks. Hank’s gaze was bizarre when he’d realized, wiping away a stray tear that ran down Connor’s face. “Connor?” He said, near frightened, and Connor sniffled the next few words. “I love you.” _This_ was new. He’s never experienced crying, but when it starts, he can’t stop, and the tears trickle effortlessly from his eyes as a sob ripped through him. It’s shaky, intrusive and so human, that Hank wrapped his arms back around him. “I don’t want you to go, Hank. Don’t leave.“

Hank held him, petting at his hair, and rocking them as he slowly enveloped Connor into an embrace. “Not going anywhere, kid. Love you too much already.” He whispered against his ear, quelling Connor’s whimpers, rubbing his back and kissing at the lobe. _Error, error, error_. The android pressed back with as much force as Hank exerted, wrapping his arms up and over the human’s shoulders. They stay that way for a few moments, until Sumo began butting his head between their legs and woofing protectively when the dog caught on to Connor’s weeping— Hank scoffed, and the android chuckled wetly. “Traitor.” Hank said, nudging his foot against the drooling hound. 

* * *

Connor liked to watch the slow rise of his chest, and the fluttering of his lashes. He was fine with just being in his company. Well, until these.. emotions, became complicated, and love developed with.. something indecent.  It’d been a year, and the man hasn’t tried anything beyond kissing. The android was impatient, and uncharacteristically fidgety. He was only thankful Cyberlife gave him full autonomous physicality. He, ‘of  _course they did’_ Hank would say, had genitals. They weren’t a primary function, but more for the aesthetic looks, and yet, Connor found himself digging at the elastic of his boxers. Maybe it was just his deviancy coming into play, but it was all he could think about; touching himself, touching Hank. He hadn’t done it before, but he wanted to. God, he really did. 

Sumo was sleeping soundly on the floor, and Connor was partly relieved. He felt wrong to expose the poor dog to his unappealing nature. Connor reached out, touching Hank’s cheek, and slid his thumb just in front of his ear. _No fingerprints_. Hank grumbled, in the thralls of slumber, and Connor licked the shell of his ear. He breathed, hot and intentional, and the human shuddered instinctively. “Hank.” He mumbled sweetly, pressing his teeth against the area below his earlobe. He nipped at the skin there before sucking a hard mark into the human’s skin.

It woke Hank up, though, with the softest groan escaping him. “Wha’ matter?” The human asked, only partially awake while Connor continued to bite at his neck. “Can I touch you?” The android responded, and Hank jerked his head up. “You want to—“ He paused, and Connor nipped at his jaw. “If you’d allow it.” The android stated soon after, eyes somewhat owlish as the LED whirled yellow, just as it had time and time again. Hank reached out, his fingers pressing firmly at the light, and Connor flinched, body spasming slightly. The android stuttered silently, stomach winding tight when Hank grinned sleepily. “You want to touch me, baby boy?” The older man asked, and Connor’s hand was instantaneous when he squeezed the front of his partner’s crotch, swallowing at the feel of his semi-hard erection. He wanted to touch it, taste it. He wanted Hank to touch him, too. Connor had thought about it from the time he’d met Hank, to now, He wanted to do good, from the moment he met Hank, from the first time he’d valued a human life over statistics. Before he knew it, he’d been inclined to pull those praises straight from Hank by pushing his backside down against his clothed cock. 

Hank rested his thumb just beside his LED, nail tracing the rim. Connor choked on a softer moan, leaning into the touch despite pushing Hank onto his side. The android coaxed his boxers past his thighs, lips agape at the sight of his swollen head. It felt different than what Connor had, or what he’d imagined whilst browsing on the internet, and in ways he couldn’t quite explain. He wrapped his left hand around the human, sliding his fist up, with Hank hissing softly. “Careful, careful. Dry.” Connor mumbled inaudibly, spitting into his palm and wrapping his hand around the man once more. He slid up, the movement lewd when precum seeped at the slit of his cock. Hank bumped his forehead against the android’s cheek, a sigh passing through him by the third stroke. “There you go— good, good job.”

Hank groped his hip, running past and getting his hand over the underside of thigh— gripping his backside, parting one cheek over the clothed fabric and rolling the tender flesh in his brutish grasp. Connor pressed his lips over his partner’s head, setting a pace with the twist of his wrist. Hank’s breath became labored, shallow in tone, and Connor’s thighs were weak from the noise; he moans, and Connor wants to wretch those sounds out of him at a louder octave. He pumped faster, squeezing a little every time his fingers caught at the head, slick sliding down his knuckles. He flicked his wrist once, twice, and Hank growls appreciatively, panting, keening— the aftermath of an orgasm splattered between them, mostly caught by Connor’s fingers, and he milks him to the point that he could just _feel_ the vibrations of the faintest whine escaping Hank. His hand was coated in the fluid, along with the sheets, and Connor doesn’t waste time in raising his hand up to his face. Hank watches him, nearly transfixed, when the android lapped up the mess with a slight of his tongue. “Jesus christ.” Hank groaned miserably while tucking himself in, almost desperate, until he pushed Connor onto his back and settled on top of him.

The android spread his legs, nearly instinctive when Hank hiked his shirt up past his chest. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Connor.” He sighed, running both palms up his slim abdomen, a hint of muscle but overall soft in physicality. The android let his arms rest on either side of his own body, legs quivering when the man leant down and slid his tongue over a nipple. Connor shuddered, squeezing his eyes closed when teeth brush against the tender bud, and fingers roll the other. “Sweetheart, you getting shy on me now?” He breathed against his skin, and Connor swallowed feverishly. “I-I.. feel hot.” Malfunction? Was he overheating? Hank chuckled softly, rubbing his thighs as he bit down his chest, sucking, kissing. “That’s normal. Try to relax. I’ll make it better.”

Hank is far gentler than he’d expected, a man of his demeanor. He has Connor lift his hips up, sliding his underwear off and discarding of them to the floor. He bent, sliding Connor’s legs up over his shoulders as he got low enough to press kisses in between his thighs. The android gripped the sheets into his fists, eyes blown wide and synthetic skin burning from the touch he was receiving. Hank doesn’t go fast enough for his liking, teasing him as he went along, but never fully touching his cock. Connor preened when he bit particularly hard onto his hip, holding him down when the android writhed underneath him. “Hank.” He whined, a frown forming on his face when the human stopped at the base. His tongue darted out, sliding flat over him with that snarky little smile on his face. He engulfed him, swallowing thickly, and with that tight heat, Connor couldn’t quite function. He gripped the sheets, whimpering pitifully— Hank hums around him, slides the tip of his tongue over the slit of his cock, and Connor’s body tensed, toes curling and fingers numb. The sheet rips— sutures unwinding, just in his grasp, and Hank doesn’t let up. He bobs his head, eyes half-lidded and predatory, Connor couldn’t form a coherent string of thoughts. “Wait— Hank, it’s hot— fuck, _fuck_.” He clamped a hand over his own mouth, a relieved sob escaping him when he cums, and Hank swallowed it all down, holding him close and allowing Connor to wretch his right hand through the silver locks atop his head. 

His body shudders, contracting, until Hank finally lets up. “Connor. Baby, hey.” The human sounded so sweet, so kind, and Connor nearly preens when a kiss is pressed on his mouth. His lips part, moaning appreciately when Hank kisses him, and his legs wrap possesively around the human’s waist. “Y’okay?” He whispered, smoothing Connor’s hair back and grinning at the glaze in the android’s eyes. “I didn’t expect it to feel.. like that.” Connor wrapped his arms around his neck then, pulling the older man down on top of him. Hank snorted, resting over him as he ran his fingers up his right side. “Is that a good thing?” The human asked, burying his face in the crook of his partner’s neck. “Satisfactory, I suppose.” Connor stated, laughing once Hank swatted at him. “Brat.”

”Can we do it again?” The android asked, only moments after his laughter quelled. “If you want to.” Hank closed his eyes, getting comfortable with his weight on Connor. “What about right now?”

”Wha— now? I’m not a kid, Connor. I can’t just get myself going again that quick.”

”Why? I can.”

”S’not how it works for humans.”

”Hank..”

”Can’t hear you. I’m asleep.” 


End file.
